I’m an avid reader. I’m currently reading 3 books. Yes, three. Over the past month I’ve found it really tough to get into any of them though (hence the 3) – I’m normally a new book every few weeks kind of girl. The past two nights I’ve immersed myself in a hot bath for an hour or so with the purpose of changing that & I’ve finally gotten into one of said three. (Finally!)

Skin Game by Caroline Kettlewell

It’s good, it’s gotten better. And it’s made me think.

I think it was when I was 12 years old & I started High School that I started to try on different masks for size. Home life was tough, especially with my step-father. It was when I hit 13, when my “uncle” came on the scene & the abuse began that I really started to play the part.

School, when I attended was off the scale but family life grew even worse. I spiraled out of control & did a lot of things I regret today, even if I didn’t experience them as myself but… almost as a dissociative self.

Needless to say, life wasn’t breeze.

The bullying started as early as nursery school……

It’s still as raw. I’m not sure exactly what it was I did wrong, but it must have been something. I changed schools 3 (4 counting High School) times & was bullied in each one. Each time I moved, there was a chance to reinvent myself, but it never really worked out the way I’d planned. I always ended up just being….me. Apparently that wasn’t good enough.

The bullying certainly contributed to my leaving school at 15 & never looking back. It’s funny, some of those people, those bullies even have the audacity to add me on certain networking sites, without a word. I mean, one girl added me last week who I actually had a full blown physical fight with. I guess it’s all a matter of being nosey, along with the convenience of pretending none of it ever happened. Lucky them.

I created several sides of myself, one for each occassion;

The girl who would always laugh, no matter what you threw at her – the “guys girl”.

The super sexy, confident young woman who knew exactly what she wanted & exactly how she’d get it.

The girl who would throw an absolute raging fit not just in the privacy of her own home but in class too if all the right buttons were pushed, ending in another “run-away scene in the woods”.

Pretty much every one in my world saw me in a state of hyper mania, but every night without fail, once that bedroom door was closed I became a complete & utter wreck. I cried myself to sleep each & every night, more often with razor in hand than not. The anxious, itching, trembling mess, the Manic Depressive

After a while, I forgot which one was the real me. Easily done, with so many facades my days were spent in a dizzy blur. Most of everything, even when I was alone was indeed fabricated for an audience. This led me unable to even walk down the street this time last year for fear of another anxiety attack because everyone is staring & judging. They think I’m ugly. They think I’m fat. They wonder what the hell he sees in her. You get the idea.

I guess I really did lose my real self, I still haven’t truly found her yet. All I really ever find is a want to reinvent myself, to start all over again. If I could just keep the act up, everything would be better.

As I said, we were interviewed separately so whilst Bear was with the detective I hauled out some of the coloring books & got to work. I’d forgotten how therapeutic coloring in could be. In fact, here’s a peek at my work(s) of art.

So I let my inner child run free for half an hour, big deal.

I’m still wound up. I’ve been wound up since last night. I’m exhausted but my mind won’t stop. My eyes are so dry from lack of sleep. I managed to eat some dinner this evening, much to my surprise. I didn’t dare eat anything this morning from fear of throwing up….

I haven’t spoken to my mother yet, she blew the phone up this morning but neither of us answered. I wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to upset me or make anything harder. It’s always best to steer well clear of her at times like this. Especially when I’m on such a short fuse. My dad was online when I came home though & took his usual insensitive approach, but I kept him at bay with as little detail as possible. The only person I’m going to relay any of this to, at least for now, is Bear.

My dad said I should be proud of myself. Maybe so. I’m more numb than anything right now. It all seems very surreal & I can’t help but wonder if Pandora’s box has only been opened wider. I mean, did I just reach right on in there & fork out everything I had?

I’m heading for a complete burn out, I know it. Quite like Bear who’s just beat me to it – he’s flat out, snoring on our bed right now. Bless.

I figure my inner child is still hanging out here with me right now, she’s protecting me. I honestly believe, if I didn’t have the ability to revert into a bit of a kid I’d be a complete mess right now.

I am only just learning of the pain you’ve been through. I uncover new things every day. With each new memory, my rage burns deeper. You don’t believe me, but it wasn’t your fault. None of it was & none of it is. You are your only responsibility, fuck the rest of them. You have to protect yourself. You feel like you didn’t protect yourself before, I know, but we can change that by doing it now. It’s okay, you did what you thought would be the safest option, the option that would make it stop & go away quicker. But now it’s back, & it’s back with a vengeance. It’s not going to go away again honey. It can’t.

I know you may not believe this right now, quite like you didn’t then either, but you were not the one in control. He was the adult. He was the only one able to give consent. So stop blaming yourself. Instead, see that he was the one who chose, he acted alone & he shattered the world around you. He thought he would get away with it. He honestly thought he could carry on his dream family lifestyle & take this secret to his grave. Well, an early grave it shall be, but a secret no longer.

The road that has led you here has been immeasurably difficult & it’s not about to get any easier. But you don’t just have the love & support of your man now, you have what you’ve never had before, & that’s your family. It’s not easy for you to accept I know, but in their own way, it is there for you.

What you are about to embark on is something not many women are able to do…..

But remember, this time last year you were doing very much the same thing. You made a decision & you carried it through, you left that abusive, narcissistic bastard & took on a whole new life. Don’t you see how strong you are? You were institutionalised in that place, mentally broken by that man, self injuring several times every day, on a stream of medication even. Now look at you, sat here in America, wearing the new clothes you bought for yourself yesterday, guilt free, with your hard earned money – sweetie, you are so free now. Did Bear so much as blink as you spoiled yourself for the first time in years? Only a couple of weeks ago did he buy you the most beautiful pendant – in all three years with that bastard, did he ever buy you anything?!

You are so lucky, so blessed right now. Finally you have your own slice of happiness. I know, I know, there’s a big black cloud hanging over it right now but, together we can help disperse it. Treat it like summer rain, I know you love that.

You have the strength, you have the courage. You have the want & the need to do this E. I think you should take the next step. You think you have been coping, you still believe you are. But you haven’t & you are not. You want to heal, you’re not sure what that means or how to do it, but you want to. I want to. In many ways you are a survivor, but you are still hurting, you are not free yet, you are still in that dark place. I don’t want to keep you there any longer, I’ve always been afraid of the dark.

At 20 years old, you need to enter adulthood without this terrible burden. You need to leave it at the door of this new life with Bear, this home & soon, this marriage.

I feel the anger surging inside, I feel the urges to take it out on your body like you’ve always done. You don’t know how else to cope, I understand & if that is what gets you through the next months, then so be it. But listen, you’ve gone over 90 days without. How fucking strong is that? How proud are you? I know I’m proud, prouder than ever.

I want to protect you from going through all that again though. I want to set you free. It will get worse before it gets better, but I think we both know, the most foreseeable “worse” step is to bite the bullet, rip off the band aid & make that statement. You don’t know these people & they don’t know you. Tell them everything you know, everything you can think of & be done with it. I feel you shaking even as I propose this, but I also feel the fire burning inside.. You have been dancing around this decision for too long now. We’re on the edge of something huge here, something frightening yes, but what have you got to lose? What have you got to lose? Tell me.

You are so beautiful, so brave & you have some balls girl, I tell you.

Look at yourself here, look at the innocence & my god, those eyes! You’re beautiful. A child with so much love to give, only wishing to receive. Wipe your mind of all the names & the insults. Forget everything you believe yourself to be. You are none of those things. You are E. You are perfect in your own way. You are you. You deserve so much more than you’ve ever had thus far. Together we’re going to make things right, even if I go to my grave trying. I mean it. You are the most precious thing I have & I can’t, won’t, stand for this any longer.

I love you. Even in my worse times when it may feel like I hate you with all that makes me, I love you.

Now, give ‘em hell baby.

Tonight I feel I’m hanging by a single thread.

Tonight I want to cut.

Why is nothing ever easy?

Why am I always left with the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth?

It’s been more than a few hours of fighting the urge, yet it hasn’t dulled one bit. It’s not that I actually want to cut, it’s that I need to cut. I have to cut to keep shit together, I have to cut to stay sane. But I know that when I make that first cut.. it’ll take a lot more to stop me from doing it again & again. If I cave now, I’m fucked. Even though I know sooner or later I will cave, I need to at least try to hold it off. I’m simply delaying the inevitable.

Today has been a hard one, I’m spending a few days with my father & well… I no longer know who this man is. My once hero is…well…gone. The man I sit on the couch with is a stranger. The man I used to rant & rave about to my friends & family is no more. This man, this man is.. this man is.. weak. This man isn’t my hero nor my savior. Once upon a time I could run to him & feel safe. Not now. Our relationship is strained. He has his flaws & so do I, there’s no hiding that.. but how can things be so different? Where did my Daddy go?

Why is this 54 year old man, in his second (& most miserable) marriage of 9 years & in terrible, terrible debt giving money to 21 year old boys he’s talking to online? Why did I have to sit through one of the most violent rape scene’s I’ve ever seen in a film when we both know what happened to me? Why when I left the room, did he pause then rewind?

He doesn’t get it, I know this..

I stood next door in the kitchen in the dark with my hands over my ears & tears streaming down my face.

My father & I talked for hours on end about what to do about my abuser. I feel sick inside. I feel dirty outside. In the bath tonight I scrubbed & scrubbed.. not daring to look at myself in the mirror. He openly uses the word “Rape” & it makes my skin crawl.

How can he not get it? But this really isn’t anything new, he’s always been one to hover on a passing sex scene while flicking the channels, I understand he tries to make me understand that sex isn’t a bad thing… but.. this is fucked up. I can’t write about it any longer, I just can’t.

So at 1:30am I sit in bed, typing like mad to help contain my anger, my upset, my disappointment. Yes a lot of my disappointment is over my father but more of it comes from the fact I’m tired of discovering new lies & new shit from Bear. It’s all very well not going looking for things, I get this, I know this, I’ve learned from this, especially with him.. but when it simply appears right fucking BAM in your face whilst your looking for something completely different, that’s another story.

Just because things were said to other people at the start of our relationship, when maybe we weren’t all that serious .. doesn’t make it hurt any less. It hurts more. It just plain fucking hurts & I’m goddamn sick of it.

I should really dig out some of my old texts or messages to people to let him read. Only, I don’t have any – & let me add, this isn’t because I’ve deleted them.. I don’t have any full fucking stop.

I see the same things recycled over & over.. but to different people, countless names & I notice when the same words are fed to me… & they hurt. They cause me to doubt. I don’t want to doubt. I want to believe, I want to embrace & be swept off my feet.. but it’s ten fucking times more difficult when … fuck, I give up.

My heart hurts. I feel empty. All I really want is to go home, home to Bear, home to America. But at the same time I’m scared. Scared of what else I’m going to come across. So what if we’ve been to hell & back, that doesn’t make any of it hurt any less. I wish it did, I truly do. But it doesn’t. And shit sticks, especially with me. I feel like a complete mug. I feel like I should have known.. It brings back all the other shit & I can’t push through to the light again. The fog is too thick, I’m disorientated & really, I just want to cut it all out.

I’ll get over it, all of it. Every last word of it. But it taints things, it taints words & moments. It taints us.

I’m honestly not sure where I’m going with this, what I’m even doing writing all this & not just cutting myself up… why bother delaying the inevitable? Is there really any point? Doesn’t it always just make it worse when the time finally comes? Yes, it does.. So why am I fighting? I don’t want to fight, but I don’t want to cut. I don’t know what I want. I’m scared of what I need.

I’m scared of my future. I’m terrified of going back to Bear & it being the same as before. Most of our time together was amazing, really, but there were moments.. I saw a darkness in him I’ve never seen before, in anyone. Those moments won’t leave me, no matter how hard I try. He has his demons & so do I. Together we have & will continue to fight them.. but again, nothing is ever easy.

Right now, it all seems so much bigger than me. Right now, my heart hurts. My mind is swamped & my spirit is low. Right now as I turn a slither of silver between my fingers… I find myself in a dark place. I find myself… alone.

Yesterday I made the mistake of bumping into my stepfather’s mother on the bus & apparently there isn’t a “time & a place”. Her first words were about “it”. We all know what IT is, but seriously, have the balls to give it a name. Anyway, she asked me straight off; “Was there anyone else involved”.

What the fucking fuck?!

“It must be hard for your dad”. – Heh, never mind me ahe.

“Are you going to take it to court?” – Urm, one step at a time?

“Well, you can’t let him away with it”. – You know what, if I want to “let him away with it”, then I will. I will. That’s not to say others will. But I might.

All this left a nasty taste in my mouth.

Revenge. That’s what’s been running through my mind since I arrived home.

Today I collected every phone number & address to his name. Every now & again during my raking of drawers I’d come across photo’s of his kids. His daughter is twelve now, I was thirteen. No, she’s not my responsibility I’m afraid, but still.

I’ve never felt anger about the abuse before. All I’ve every really done is block it out & pretend it never happened. But now, I’m thinking about it, more & more.

I no longer want to cut myself, I want to cut him. I don’t want to go through a court case, I want to go through contacts that can do what he did to me & more.

My mum talks to me about what she’d do if she met him. But really, we don’t ever know until it happens. Sometimes I see myself curling up into a frightened ball..other times I see myself going for his throat. I just don’t know.

Today..today I want to meet him. I want him to come round. And I want to be ready & waiting. I want to lure him in..make him think he’s in control again but little does he know, I am the one who’s about to take away everything he’s ever known & loved. Perhaps I’ll start with his genitals. Maybe his fingernails. No matter how I start, it all ends with his blood.

I want to cut out that bastards balls & ram them so far down his throat they come out his arse.

The Cucumber Incident anyone? A grandmother, both her daughters & a daughter in law who after discovering this man had raped her 5 year old granddaughter..raped him, with a gourd?

I gotta say, that’s looking pretty damn good from where I’m sitting.

It’s been a stressful 4 days. Yeah, I’ve not even been here a week & I’m going shit crazy.

A lot of it was to do with being unable to be online = speaking to Bear for free. But we’ve finally cleared that hurdle thank fuck. He’s in my ear now as I blog infact & good god it’s free. No more international phone calls baby.. Can you believe it?!

I’ve never been so happy to see a Connected sign in my life. I am fucking kick ass awesome, if I may say so myself. Sit & spin BT, you mangy mother fuckers. Yeah, that’s right, you.

For the first time since early August last year I have the freedom to use the internet in my own home. Well, of course I had the freedom to do whatever I chose with Bear but we’re talking Scotland 4500 miles away home now. For a few weeks at least.

There’s been bigger problems with family. I was totally fooled into believing things would be different. But my mum is still as flaky, my Stepdad (CF) still a Control Freak & my dad is still completely irrational & his wife, hell, she can go raffle her doughnut.

I’m slightly bewildered about the people who have been told about the abuse in my absence.

I feel like it’s the first thing people see when they meet me. It was pretty evident this morning with CF’s family.. something in the way they looked at me. I later found out for certain that they knew. But that’s nothing, I can deal with that.

It’s the tension in this house. The way my mum freaks out over nothing, getting angry over everything from fluff on the carpet to the fact I haven’t drunk my tea fast enough. CF has made me feel like that 16 year old he kicked out the house 4 years ago. No, I’ll never forgive you. But that’s not the point. Or maybe it is. Maybe things will always be shit with him until we address the issues.. I don’t know.

My dad pissed me off big style yesterday. We were talking about the abuse. Firstly, he keeps calling that fucker my uncle. He is not my uncle. He is nothing to me.. but more so, he tells me..

“So maybe you were babysitting, he came home drunk & his wife went to bed. You were looking hot & were a bit of a tease. Maybe you’d even had a drink too. So things went further than they should. It’s like how a lot of people get pregnant, they start with a snog but things get carried away… but to let it carry on & happen again?!”

Pardon my french but what the FUCK?

Victim blaming, a father blaming his own daughter. That’s it right there.

Even if he hadn’t been stone cold sober. Even if I had looked nice. Even if I had been a prick tease. I was thirFUCKINGteen. It was rape. Incest. RAPE. He just doesn’t get it does he?

I’ve been on my abusers business website, looking around. There’s a pattern with this guy online & elsewhere. He uses his old address, never discloses his name… He’s so anonymous it’s damning. It makes me certain I’m not the only one. I’d love, next time his customers to bring up the page for there to be a huge “THIS MAN IS A RAPIST & A PAEDOPHILE”….

He told me a few times, never to tell anyone because he would lose his wife, kids, business, everything. What about what I lost you cunt. He needs to lose everything & more.

Talking with my mum about things today, I realized just how much I’ve blocked out.. but things are coming back & with them, biggest of all is rage.

My self injury is so much more than just a release. More than just pain, anger & despair from the inside to the outside..

Maybe it’s true. My self injury really did start with the my uncle. Sure, I remember biting & hitting myself after my dad left but it really started with the abuse. I mean, there’s no hiding the fact I was SI active when you see photo’s of me back then. I hate to admit it. I hate to admit that that bastard had such control over me, I’m disgusted to admit that it was him who caused me to start cutting.

Sometimes I feel like there is someone else inside me. The girl before the abuse.. I see parts of her each & every time I cut. I can’t get to her. Even if I could, it’s not like it’d do any good. What’s been has gone &… well she was so young, with everything else she’d never be able to survive out on her own.

I’d love to bring her out sometime & hold her. Hold her like Bear holds me, so she might for once feel safe & warm. But I don’t know how to find her, she deep inside the person I am now & honestly? I’m terrified of letting her out for fear of losing my sanity.

Sometimes when I’m crying in Bears arms I feel her pulling at me to get out. From nowhere comes a cry inside. A cry that I was only 13. A cry that tells everything he did to me. I want so badly to say it, to scream it.. but in my panic all I can do is barricade her behind closed doors.

Have I become my own keeper?

It’s seems my self injury has become a regular part of my world once again, for now at least. Honestly? Things are too scary for it not to be. I cannot cope with the constant urges on top of everything else.

Early next month my visa runs out & I have to leave Bear for a few weeks, this means facing the music with family. Chances are the abuse & going to the police will be the first thing on the table & it scares me. I’m scared to see people looking at me differently as well.. But it all boils down to the fact I’m going to be dealing with all this shit alone, or at least physically, I will be alone. It’s different than it was before.. months & months of painful longing to be here, safe with Bear, it’s not as bad. But I need him now more than ever..& I know I’ll be dying to get back here. But like the past three months has flown by, I surely hope those four weeks will be gone in a flash & I’ll be back in his arms again.

I have a lot to do before I come back to the states; I need a new doctor, I need to look into some form of help for myself. I need to do something about this terrible anxiety I’m experiencing pretty much every time I leave the house or have to deal with anyone. I don’t want to go back on medication, but if that’s what it’s going to take, if that’s what will stop me from feeling as sick as I do at the mere thought of some of the things that shouldn’t even make me blink…then so be it.

Recently I’ve been having the strongest of flashbacks, triggered by the strangest of things. It’s certainly been a long time since I’ve dissociated too, but here I am again. It’s a very, very frightening thing… again, triggered by things I never even knew were triggering for me.

But after all, this is the first time I’ve ever fully acknowledged what happened to me. Okay maybe not fully, I’m not ready to fully accept it yet, but you know what I mean.

This is the first relationship I’ve ever had where my partner actually gets it. I mean, he doesn’t get it completely – I wouldn’t expect anyone who hasn’t been through abuse to do so – but he gets it. And that helps.

But yes, this is all very new to me, both of us in fact. So perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised things are happening like they are. You keep something bottled up, buried, hidden for years…it’s only a matter of time before it creeps back out to bite you. Only, it didn’t exactly creep…I’m actually more inclined to say it burst out of me like the alien from John Hurts’ stomach.

Yeah, exactly like that.

Talking of the ex & what he was like. I found an old post. Reading it over was tough, but it was interesting to see how I once felt, especially right in the heat of the moment. Rereading it now with a fresh mind, after all that’s happened in the past three months I want to – I need to – amend it. The way I feel now is so far from what I imagined. I was so clouded back then, so consumed with anger & hurt. There’s not much more I can say other than….here goes.

“We ended on a good note..but perhaps that wasn’t really a good thing. Perhaps if we’d let rip at each other it’d be so much easier to walk away. Instead I saw the man I fell in love with for the first time in months.”

After all that had been said & done why didn’t we let rip at one another, why change the habit of a lifetime ahe? It was a hell of a lot easier to walk away than I could ever have dreamed – & I did dream. What I saw that morning wasn’t the man I thought I’d fallen in love with, it was just the manipulative man I’d always known.

“I can barely see through my tears..will they ever stop? Ever truly stop I mean?”

You know.. after that day I never cried for you once. I never missed you nor pined for you like I thought I would. My tears for you stopped as soon as I locked that door & put my keys through the letter box.

“My skin resembles the path my heart has taken. I’m no longer going to hide those scars. Each one..tells a story. Unfortunately a lot of them tell the story of us. At least the most vicious ones do.. the mental ones are different. Far, far different. But the ones you can see…..”

My skin resembles the path you tore through me. I no longer hide those scars because I’m not being told what to wear. I’m not being told to cover up because I’m disgusting. Of course the mental scars are different from the physical, more than the fact that they would be impossible to portray.

“I’ve left you things here & there. Perhaps I shouldn’t..but I guess I’m just trying to hold on. Maybe to something that wasn’t even there in the first place but..I’m still holding. In a way, I always will be. You will always have a place in my heart.. “

I left you things I bought for you hoping that you’d someday give me a token of your own love..Hoping maybe you’d treat me to something I’d have liked instead of something you wanted for yourself. I was naively holding onto something that was all a part of my imagination. None of it was ever there & no matter how hard I wished, it never would be. But no, I don’t have to hope & pray at all anymore for I have all I need, everything I’ve ever wanted right here next to me. You never truly had a place in my heart, just like I never had a place in yours.

“I don’t want you to carry on as the man you’ve become. I want you to be the man I met 3 years ago..the man I fell head over heels for. The man who showed me what life could be like if only I spread my wings.”

I don’t want to carry on living like the woman you’ve shaped me to be. You’ve always been the same man, the man I had little choice but to leave home & live with. The man who battered & broke what little wings I did have.

“I’ll pull through & eventually I’ll be happy. Hopefully, I’ll be happier than I ever have been.”

I pulled through & hot damn if I’m not happy. Happier than I’ve ever, ever been. I’m so fortunate. Like I’ve always secretly wished I feel like a real life princess who’s been rescued by her prince.

I came off my medication back in October last year.

Of course I didn’t do it with the help nor advice of my doctor, what do you take me for?!

But seriously I didn’t exactly have a doctor since I’d moved back home & I was in limbo not only with where I’d be living & how I was going to cope but more because my psych failed me big style. We’d had a breakthrough..I told her about my abuser that much is true, but I also told her I’d never talk about it.. but that’s not the point here. The point was I actually stopped pretending everything was hunkydory with my ex.

One day I sat down with her & I told her I was leaving him. It must have come as a total surprise as I’d never done anything but praise the man (I now use that term loosely). But that day, I stopped defending him. More importantly though, I stopped lying to myself.

I told her exactly what he was like. I told her about the mental & the physical abuse. Everything I’d told myself was normal or then again, everything I’d been told I deserved for the past 3 years. I had to make it short & sweet..time is money & all but damn, for the first time I actually used my therapy like I was meant to.

So, we ended on that note August last year. I’ve received no help, no follow up since. I know I need help, especially now. I need a good councilor, a good psych – those things are hard to find, believe me – & I hope I can at least find something during the time I’m back in Scotland in April.

Anyway, since coming off the medication, I reckon I’ve done pretty well. I am so much better off than on. Fuck, I never realized how different things could be. Everything is different – in a good way, or so I think. Maybe other people – Bear -  maybe he sees something different but….

My point is…I honestly didn’t need to be doped up on anti-depressants. All I needed was to get away from that mangy mother fucker. But sadly, even having had the courage to walk out that door 7 months ago doesn’t take all the bad stuff away. I’m scarred both physically & mentally from those long years…& I know there’s so much I need to resolve.

It’s frightening how someone can get so deep under your skin, even with thousands & thousands of miles between us now I still hear his voice. His comments have become my own.. telling me I’m worthless, disgusting.. Fuck, I could go on all night.

Sometimes I look at Bear & wonder what on earth I did to deserve him. For every nasty word the voice in my head feeds me, Bear has a hundred good ones. And you know…sometimes I actually believe him. I’m not used to any of this, in fact it kind of scares me. It will take more than this I know, until I truly believe it myself..nothing will change. But the change, in myself with him is amazing.. I never thought it possible.

Thank you.